


Honestly

by StarTravel



Series: Stages [3]
Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Angst and Feels, Complicated Relationships, Introspection, Light Smut, POV Julian Bashir, Self-Esteem Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-16
Updated: 2019-03-16
Packaged: 2019-11-20 17:52:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18129905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarTravel/pseuds/StarTravel
Summary: Elim Garak is an idiot.Or Julian attempts to lay all his cards on the table and it doesn’t go quite the way he wants.





	Honestly

Elim Garak is an idiot. 

 Julian has been tempted to tell him so a number of times, if only to see the appalled look on his face. He thinks telling Garak while he’s buried deep inside of him might be best, just to see if the other man can raise his eye ridges just so while he’s pulsing around him. 

 Still, he always just manages to bury the impulse, words dying on his lips during leisurely lunches or when he’s bent over Garak’s cutting table in the back of his shop. He’s mouthed it around Garak a few times, lips shaping each word on the underside of ridges.

 But Julian’s yet to be brave enough to say it out loud. He’s not ready for this to end and he’s terrified if he voices the reality of their situation, Garak will end things. That he might even end them  _ kindly,  _ which would be the worst of all. 

 None of it keeps him from finding himself in front of Garak’s shop five minutes before closing. 

 “Doctor, to what do I owe the pleasure?” Garak asks as he raises an eye ridge, gaze a mixture of annoyance and something that’s almost delight. Julian gives him a flirtatious grin and leans back against the doorway, one ankle crossed over the other while his arms hang loosely at his side. It’s a perfect imitation of Bond in his old holofilms, cool and casual and perfectly indifferent to the world around him. 

 Julian smirks with more confidence than he ever genuinely feels around Garak, who somehow manages to always throw him off his game. Julian hopes, probably in vain, that this time will be different. Julian leans in, voice low and with a hint of promise. “I was hoping we could do a fitting for my latest holoprogram.”

 “Another tuxedo?” Garak asks with a low sigh, even as he hand slips around to press against Julian’s hip and guide him into the store. The lights dim seconds later, Garak tugging him along toward the back of the store with a force he usually tries to downplay. Julian thinks Garak might be stronger than him even with the enhancements, and wouldn’t that be thrilling? 

 “A catsuit this time, actually. There’s a lot of crawling through small spaces in this one, so you’ll have to make it a tight fit.” Julian says when they get to the dressing room door, purposefully rolling his words a bit. He stretches his arms over his head so Garak can drink in the lines of his body, firmer than ever after all his racquetball games with Miles. 

 Julian really should send Keiko a gift basket at some point for forcing the other man to hang out with him. Garak might not like  _ him _ , but he certainly likes his body if the look in his eyes is anything to go by, hungry and almost desperate to take off his uniform. Though that might just be due to the style of it too. 

 “I’m sure I can handle that. Follow me, my dear doctor.” Garak’s voice is polite even as he grip on Julian’s hips grows tighter, thumbs rubbing tiny circles into the bone. Garak practically lifts him up into the dressing room, the door shutting behind them and locking with a quick ping. 

 “Garak.” Julian whispers in a voice that borders on reverent, not quite able to keep the affection out of his gaze as he reaches for the other man’s chest. Julian enjoys how Garak’s body feels against his, rough and smooth at the same time, the weight of his scales and curves overwhelming in all the best possible ways. But Garak doesn’t let him touch, grasping his wrists and gently tugging them out toward the wall. 

“Stay still.” Garak chides as he starts undoing the top of Julian’s uniform, hands lingering on the lines of his neck for a few seconds. Then he tugs his shirt down roughly, so his uniform jacket is wrapped around his wrists and holding them in place. For a second Julian thinks Garak is going to leave him just like that, tangled up in his own clothing while Garak feels him up or pushes him to his knees. 

But then Garak carefully pulls his jacket over each wrist, careful not to let the buttons snag. He lingers on the soft, vulnerable skin of each wrist, brushing his hands across them until Julian shivers. Some might even call his touch tender, if it wasn’t Garak doing the touching. Then Garak slides his hands down to Julian’s waist and around, giving his ass a firm squeeze through his uniform. “Quite tight indeed. I have to say I’m impressed.”

 “Is it? That’s quite a feat, impressing you of all people.” Julian murmurs as he meets Garak’s eyes in the mirror across the expanse of the dressing room. Julian grins a little in spite of himself at the image they make, Garak’s arms wrapped possessively around his waist and his gaze twinkling with a mirth Julian thinks he might actually feel. They almost look like a real couple instead of two people finding a mutual solution to their loneliness. 

 Garak grins at him indulgently, hands kneading the firm curve of his ass until Julian lets out a breathy moan. His voice is like honey when he speaks, sweet and rich. Julian wonders If everyone in the Obsidian Order’s lies are so intoxicating or if that’s unique to Garak. “Not for you, my dear doctor. You’re always finding new ways to surprise me.”

 “Surprise and disappoint?” Julian quips before he can stop himself, gaze rueful as he holds Garak’s in the mirror. Julian bites his lip a bit, waiting for the laughter to follow or for Garak to try and distract him with a few rough caresses. 

 Neither happens, the amusement in his gaze fading and slowly being replaced by something else. Regret or maybe guilt? Julian’s never been good at telling them apart. Emotionally dumb, is what Palis called him once. 

 “You needn’t be so self-deprecating, it doesn’t suit you. I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t interested.” Garak assures him as he leans in so his head almost rests against Julian’s shoulder. His voice is light and airy, almost teasing. But his smile is kind in a way that makes Julian stiffen, shoulders growing tense until Garak finally pulls back so his arms only hang loosely around Julian’s waist. 

 Julian will not be patronized like he doesn’t know the score here. Not when he always does. “Elim Garak, you’re an idiot.”

 “Excuse me?” Garak raises an eye ridge, voice bordering on strangled as it rises an octave in offense. Julian swallows a scoff before it can slide from his lips. He’s finally found something that can shut Garak up. Will wonders never cease? 

 “Of course you’re interested, I’m almost criminally handsome and I’m one of the few people on the ship who can keep up with you intellectually speaking. That you found me here at all is almost a miracle for you.” Julian lets the words fall out of his mouth, preening a bit in the mirror in spite of himself. There’s some truth in them; Julian knows Garak likes other people on the ship more than him, he doesn’t find anyone nearly as interesting and that’s more important for now. He could, if he spent more time with Jadzia, but luckily for Julian that has yet to come to pass. 

And for now Julian  _ is  _ almost as beautiful as he is brilliant, and Julian knows that makes him quite the worthwhile notch he for anyone’s belt. It just doesn’t make for the long-term and Julian knows that too. 

 “Glad that moment of self-deprecation is over so quickly.” Garak smiles at him just a bit too wide, teeth gleaming almost as brightly as his gaze. And Julian could laugh and go along with it, twist around in Garak’s arms and press light kisses along the scale of his jaw or insult Preloc while running his hands down his neck. He could let things play out instead of ruining them before they even start like he does with everything else. 

 “But I like you more than you like me, and that’s okay too.” Is what he says instead, reaching one hand up to brush the underside of Garak’s jaw tenderly. He smiles crookedly, trying to keep his gaze placating when Garak’s arms slacken around him. This doesn’t have to be over. It doesn’t. 

Garak doesn’t seem to agree, his hands sliding up to gently grip Julian’s shoulders instead, angling his body until they’re actually eye to eye instead of only in the mirror. Julian swallows tightly, his own hands falling to his side. Garak’s voice is unbearably soft when he speaks. “Julian -“

 “I’m serious. I know you all think of me as willfully oblivious and foolish, but I know what I’m like. I talk too much and I think too highly of myself, I’m moralistic and stubborn and far too needy. I could go on.” Julian’s words spill out too quickly for him to stop them again, this time more like lead than anything else. Julian knows who he is and why he doesn’t have friends, why for all his brilliance he’s always picked last. 

He’s everything people hate about the Federation and humans wrapped up in one tiny package to use and discard. 

 “Is this list of flaws some well-meaning ex gave you?” Garak asks with a quirk of his looks that reaches nowhere near his gaze, where instead he has the audacity to look  _ concerned.  _ As though he hasn’t said half of those things to Julian’s face before. Not that it matters. Garak and Miles and all the rest aren’t telling him something he doesn’t already know. 

 “Not well-meaning, but yes, and my parents for a few of them.” Julian quips as he leans in so their noses almost touch, his own voice playful and warm and just a touch bitter. Garak takes a step back.  

 Garak still gazes at him like he’s something fragile, when Julian couldn’t be anything further from it, has been destroyed and rebuilt from a glass child into a golden boy whose sheen is just a touch dull. “I don’t think -“

“It’s fine, I know you do. I don’t care, is what I’m saying. I’m fine with the fact that right now, I like you more than you like me.” Julian cuts him off because he doesn’t want to hear more distracting lies or, God forbid, placating platitudes about how everyone is likable or lovable or how he needs to love *himself*. 

 Julian loves his brilliance and his reflexes, loves the way he can turn a phrase or figure out anyone’s symptoms with a glance. If he loves nothing else about himself, the leftover things well - that doesn’t matter. 

 Garak doesn’t seem to agree, the ridges around his eyes tightening a bit as he gazes down at Julian with an emotion he’s never seen before. Julian feels himself tremble when Garak brushes a hand along his cheek, touch gentle in a way it has no right to be when Garak doesn’t  _ mean _ it, when he doesn’t mean any of this. “Doctor -“

 “Maybe that will change someday, or maybe it won’t. It usually doesn’t. But I’m happy to continue this now that all of cards are on the table, so to speak. What about you?” Julian forces himself to smile even though he knows it’s weak, hands shaking a little. He adores Garak in a way he hasn’t felt about anyone before, not even Palis. He’s never liked someone this much and he doesn’t want to lose that. 

 It might be a fantasy, but that’s fine. Julian’s spent half his life in holoprograms and daydreams. At least Garak’s more real than those. 

 Garak stares at him for a few seconds, the regret or guilt or whatever it was from before coming back into his gaze along with the emotion Julian can’t recognize. Just for a moment, there's something unbearably soft about his gaze and the set of his mouth. And then Garak closes his eyes, voice harsh and biting as though to erase the softness lingering in the air. “I think you should leave.”

 “All right.” Julian whispers as he picks up his jacket from the floor and gingerly throws it off his shoulder. He walks out of the dressing room without glancing back at Garak, somehow feeling more vulnerable now than any of the times they’ve spent the night together, lost in a way he hasn’t felt in over a decade.

 But at least Garak isn’t being kind. 

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and questions are loved!


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